


The Doctor is IN

by Lavender_chan



Series: Tumblr Requests [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Reader Is Not Frisk, frisk is not reader, growing doctor/patient relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_chan/pseuds/Lavender_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request from Tumblr: <i>Is it possible you could write a Sans x Reader story where the reader is Sans’ therapist?</i></p><p>Through a little meddling thanks to Frisk, Sans is pressured into going to see a Therapist by Papyrus. You are that Therapist.</p><p>Two-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is WAY longer than I meant it to be, and it didn’t end exactly how I wanted it to, but I LOVE THIS IDEA! I may take the time to turn it into a longer fic idea when I get the time, BUT! For now it’s just a two-shot (it’s still technically a one-shot, but I’m breaking it in two because it’s over 6000 words long, and that’s a large chunk to read haha

Sans glanced at the paper in his hand and then up at the building that matched the written address. A sigh left him as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and he started for the sliding double doors that lead into the joint practice.

He wasn’t sure who’s idea it was to suggest to Papyrus that Sans needed to see a shrink, but one thing was for sure…Sans was likely going to give them a bad time.

Sans sighed. He knew that was only partially true. The most likely candidates for this were Toriel, Frisk or Alphys and since Alphys knew better and Toriel was too busy supporting Asgore with all the politics that was thrown in their laps, Sans suspected the ambassador was the one to blame.

There was an assortment of both monsters and humans in the waiting room, and Sans half wondered how many doctors were in this place before he walked up to sign himself in.

“Sans…Snowdin?” The man behind the desk glanced up at Sans only once before his eyes were back on his computer screen when Sans confirmed the name, “Alright Mr. Snowdin, please just confirm this information…”

The clipboard that was handed to Sans was made of plastic and there wasn’t a pen presented with it, so Sans scanned the information quickly before handing it back.

“yeah, that’s all good, buddy,” Sans said, “any idea how long the wait is? wouldn’t want to get clip _board_.”

The man blinked before looking up at Sans. Seeing Sans’s raised eyebrows and expectant grin, he chuckled, his shoulders shaking.

“Geez,” He breathed, glancing back to see if anyone else was behind the desk or through the open doorway before he answered, “Go ahead and take a seat, the doctor will see you _short_ ly.”

Sans snorted and nodded, “you got it, buddy.”

And then it was the waiting game.

~*~

You glanced at your watch as you tried to ignore the buzzing in your ears. Sadly, the buzzing happened to be a fellow Psychologist, and was addressing all the staff for a staff meeting. The meeting was more of a courtesy than anything else, since most everyone in the practice tended to handle their own business with their own staff—but this was almost a tradition at this point and your opinion wasn’t going to change something that had been happening long before you arrived at the practice.

“And we wanted to address the shared bathrooms in the waiting rooms…” The oldest doctor here, Dr. Yamato, who was nearing retirement and droned on at 2 miles-per-hour even when in a rush started on a new topic and you had less than 5 minutes to meet with your next appointment.

You pressed your lips together and forced yourself not to look at your watch again.

The man sitting next to you leaned closer, but his eyes stayed on Yamato as he whispered, “I warned you not to book an appointment so close to these things….”

“Hush, Pat,” You grit your teeth, “I was doing a favor for Dr. Verson and I had to pencil the patient in.”

Patrick Huber chuckled, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head, “How badly you want to miss the appointment?”

“Not at all!” you glanced over and narrowed your eyes, “I happen to _like_ my job.”

The older nurse smirked before he stood up and drew the attention of everyone in the room, including Dr. Yamato, “Sorry to interrupt, Doc, but I know there are a few appointments and a lot of filing we need to get to, can the rest of this wait for next week’s staff meeting?”

There was a collective silence, and you thought you heard everyone hold their breath at the same time. You thought it was ridiculous—after all, Dr. Yamato couldn’t fire a nurse who worked for another doctor—but no one had ever tried to interrupt Dr. Yamato before, at least, not in the time you had been working at the practice.

“Ah?” Dr. Yamato addressed Patrick the same way he addressed everything: slowly, “I suppose the rest is just things that everyone will find out about through word of mouth…thank you all for your patience, and I hope your week passes quickly.”

Seeing that an explosion didn’t happen, you heard the collective sigh from the room and tried not to roll your eyes. If Dr. Yamato was going to retire soon, it wouldn’t be soon enough, in your tastes. Not that he was particularly rude, or a bad person…he was just a slight bit self-entitled, was all.

“Thanks, Pat,” You breathed before turning and hurrying from the room, throwing another glance at your watch before you habitually slipped it from your wrist and sank it into your pocket. It was bad form to glance at the time when you were with a patient, and sadly it was a habit you had yet to break from your time at college when you lived by a tight schedule just to make your life a little easier.

For now, you put all other thoughts out of your mind as you made your way to your office.

It was sparsely decorated, with your degree and a small bookshelf of books that made it comfortable enough to work in when you didn’t have a patient—which was rare—but it didn’t have the comforts some of the other doctors took to having in their personal spaces, such as pictures of family, stress balls, encouraging motivational posters that were so cliché you wanted to gag when you saw them.

Still, you took a breath and glanced at your computer to see that your appointment had already arrived at you were only 3 minutes late. It was a small comfort, but you hated to leave a patient waiting for even an extra moment. Some, more volatile, patients took even extra seconds as a personal attack, thinking you were dreading seeing them, when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. You weren’t just here to hear their problems, you wanted to help them.

You made your way to the waiting room, took a deep breath, and opened the door that divided the waiting room from the rest of the practice.

“Mr. Snowdin?” You called, picking up his folder from the small ‘IN’ slot next to the doorway.

No one moved in the waiting room and you almost pouted, thinking whoever this ‘Sans Snowdin’ was had decided to bail on you, but the thought left you when you saw a short skeleton get up out of his chair, shove his hands into his pockets and walk toward you with a grin on his face and one of his eyes lazily closed.

“heya, doc,” Sans said easily, “let’s get to your office so you can go a _head_ and examine me.”

There was a beat of silence, in which you tilted your head curiously, before the guy at the front desk snorted and tried to duck under the desk to hide his laughter and you realized that Sans had made a joke.

“Oh, a pun,” You smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, I tend to take things a little literally…”

“ _snow_ problem, doc; its still _ice_ to meet you,” Sans started to follow you through the door, his grin getting a little wider as the man at the desk fell into another fit of laughter.

“You certainly do enjoy making others laugh, don’t you?” You smiled, a small giggle of your own leaving you.

“what can i say? i think making other people laugh is _pun_ derful,” Sans shrugged, both of his eyes closing as he followed you into your office.

You smiled, finding his easy going attitude endearing, “Well, Mr. Snowdin; welcome to my office. You can sit anywhere you feel comfortable.”

Without Sans knowing it, you watched him try to pick a chair. It was an interesting exorcise in getting to know a patient without having to go through weeks of analyzing. A patient who gravitates to one of the chairs near your desk may feel a little uncomfortable and still feel more that this is a business relationship rather than that of a medical one. A patient who chose the office chair behind your desk (and you’ve had a few bold ones who’ve done this) instinctively want to be the one in control of the situation for whatever reason.

A few more intelligent ones sometimes gravitate toward the armchair that you usually sat in when listening to a patients troubles; you could always see the way they wanted to be treated as equals, rather than feeling as if they had a type of problem that would make others treat them lesser.

Sans, perhaps typically, went straight for the couch that many sat on rigidly, waiting for you to try and pick their brains as if they were a lab rat and you their heartless abuser. First meetings with your psychologist can invoke many types of horrible thoughts that leave the first appointment little more than a trial period where people tried to talk themselves out of a second. Still, it was your job to take them as they are and you were happy to do it. When Sans sat on the couch, he surprised you for the first time.

He lounged on the chair, instantly giving an air of comfort; he might as well have been sitting on your personal couch at home, already best friends with you. Sans had one arm on the back of the couch, the other still shoved inside of the pocket of his hoodie, and his legs crossed and resting on the small coffee table you had in front of the couch.

“you can just call me ‘sans’, by the way,” He said easily, his grin still in place; a part of you wondered if he always had that grin, because he was a skeleton, but you had seen it move and grow. Finding his neutral expression was certainly an idea, if you wanted to be able to read him accurately.

You blinked slowly before offering him another smile as you sat in the armchair, crossing your legs and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You certainly are laid-back,” You commented easily, pulling a clipboard from the side of the armchair and placing Sans’s folder on top of it, “Alright, I’ll call you Sans, then.”

He nodded approvingly and you made a note on his folder before you flipped the folder open and pulled out a slip of paper that would let you make notes and preparing to write. The first few things were easy to add: ‘wearing a hoodie in July; security blanket?’ ‘hides his hands, tries to be discreet’ ‘uses a lot of puns; must know what situations this is appropriate for him’, but that was all you started with. You glanced at him and saw he was studying you, almost as surely as you were going to study him and you laughed nervously.

“Well, Sans,” You started easily, “I know that this appointment was a recommendation by a family member; your brother, correct?”

The perpetual grin on Sans’s face grew a little while his eyes darted up and to the left—something you unconsciously associated with a visual memory in a patient—before he spoke fondly, “papyrus is probably the only person who could get me to come talk to a head doctor.”

At least he didn’t call you a ‘shrink’, “Are there others who have suggested it?”

Sans shrugged, “not to my face, but i get the feeling someone suggested it to paps; my bro is the most caring monster you’ll find, but he’s a bit naïve and not well versed in human customs. there’s not really a possibility that paps would have discovered what a ‘psychologist’ was or what it is you docs do; well, not without help.”

You made a small note on your clipboard, but your eyes didn’t leave Sans while he talked. You picked up a little annoyance in his voice; he obviously didn’t want to be here, but in your own experience, that kind of reaction came from patients who _needed_ to see you. You were sure why, but this fact was universal among patients: the more they needed professional help, the less they seemed willing to go and get it.

“Well, Papyrus sounds like a very caring brother,” You offered Sans a smile.

“yup, my bro is the coolest,” Sans beamed and seemed to open up more just from talking about Papyrus, “he’s the best brother a _bonehead_ like me could ask for.”

You caught that pun quicker than the others and laughed quietly at it before you watched his face. Sans was looking for your reaction the same way he had glanced toward the man at the front desk. Attention seeking, but not for attentions sake.

Maybe Sans avoided attention by controlling the flow of it?

It was a theory that you made a note of on the sheet of paper before you started to speak again.

“I can see that you will probably be reluctant to come to another session, unless of course Papyrus forces you to attend-“ The surprised look in his eyes seemed to tell you that you were right, “-but maybe you’re someone who only needs one session.”

Sans’s eyes darted down from left to right and you paused, your pen frozen above the page. That was interesting. He was remembering something, something that made the hand on that back of the couch twitch and tap quietly. That let you know that Sans did have something—big or small—that he _knew_ he ought to talk to you about as a professional, but you could almost hear his internal dialogue talking himself out of it.

This was someone you would have to build confidence with very quickly in order to get him to come back, and it was a small risk.

“Sans, if I may?” You tucked the clipboard between your thigh and the arm of the chair before you folded your hands in your lap and you caught Sans’s eyes in a locked stare, not waiting for his permission before you started speaking, “Sans, I can see your insecurities; the way you hide your hands in your pockets, most likely because you don’t want people to be able to see your visceral emotional reactions to any given situations, the way you control situations and people’s attentions with your jokes and easy-going demeanor; I could almost see the thoughts pass through your head when I suggested that you might only need ‘one’ session…”

You could see little blue droplets of sweat start to appear on his skull and you knew the risk of continuing; you could scare him away with how easy you could read him. You had done it before with patients, but this was a risk you had to take or he might not come back. Plus, you were about to start speculating and if you were wrong…well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“I saw how you felt every negative emotion from the recent past, knowing that what you _really_ need is someone to talk to, and then those doubts that came in almost immediately, telling you that I’d never understand, that I would think you’re crazy, that I wouldn’t believe you or that I’d tell someone and risk everything you’ve tried so hard to build for yourself…”

Sans didn’t even seem to be breathing anymore and his hands were now in his lap as he listened to you talk, his body unnaturally still.

“…But you ought to know,” You said in a softer tone, “That I would never think of you as crazy; I never think that way of any of my patients. I won’t lie to you and tell you that I understand everything you’ve been through, because it won’t be true and I’m not here to lie to you. And I’m under an oath to never share what I hear in this room with anyone else. Not another doctor, not another patient, not even the police. I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Sans took a breath in, and you thought you saw his shoulders tremble a little.

“w….wow, doc,” Sans was trying to pull himself back together, you could see it from the way his eyes would no longer meet yours, and the way his words couldn’t even leave his mouth in one piece, “I, uh…I dunno what to say about that…I…well…I, uh…”

You offered him a small genuine smile, “You really don’t have to say anything; I’m your doctor now and even if you just feel the need to come in and spill about your day during our sessions and nothing deeper than how the weather has been, then so be it.”

There was a long moment of silence in which you both sat and studied each other.

“…alright, doc,” He finally said, the pinprick of lights in his eyes disappearing leaving the almost unnatural black void staring back at you, “i’ll come back and we’ll see how this goes.”

No puns, and an air of serious calmness that almost sent chills up your back, but you had gotten a confirmation from him! Now it would be all about whether or not he would keep his appointments.


	2. The Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the twoshot~ Sorry this took so long, school has been hell haha
> 
> Sooooo...I definitely don't like how quickly I felt I had to end this (I'm actually much better and longer length things, and not so much at shorter stuff haha) I may come back to this and rewrite it so its longer, but no promises! I LOVE the idea of a doctor/patient where Sans is the patient, so its a good chance.

Despite your doubts, Sans kept his appointments. He was often late, and you had learned not to book an appointment directly after his for various reasons, but he came just the same. More often than not, he joked and punned his way through the appointment, told you about his day and then left, but he still came.

And despite the obvious discomfort of over-sharing, you found ways to get him to talk about topics, though he caught on quickly. Papyrus was an excellent way to get Sans talking, and it was obvious that other than a little bit of overprotection on Sans’s part—and a little bit of one-sided lack of communication, also on Sans’s part—they had a healthy sibling relationship.

Talking about Papyrus was how Sans had slipped and let you know that he had once dated Toriel, the queen of all monsters.

“Why did the two of you break up?” You asked, your pen spinning over your fingers lazily.

“well, her and asgore were still on speaking terms,” Sans shrugged, not meeting your eyes, “and they spent _a lot_ of time together, what with all the politics, they just sort of…got back together.”

You tilted your head, ignoring the tone in his voice that obviously said he didn’t really want to talk about this, “While you were dating Toriel?”

“no,” Sans answered quietly, “we just kind of drifted apart.”

“Were you jealous?”

“wasn’t a lot of time for me to get jealous,” Sans shifted, but you watched his eyes; they told you a different story.

“Did your jealously cause a rift?”

Sans froze and met your gaze, his grin falling until it was more of a grimace, “…gotta say, doc, i’m not a fan of when you do that.”

You blinked and smiled apologetically, “Sorry…it’s a force of habit; I wouldn’t get very far with my patients if I couldn’t tell when they were lying to me…and to themselves.”

A non-committal grunt was the only thing that Sans blessed you with before you shifted back into gear, “Come on, Sans; you and I both know I’m not here to judge. Anyone would get jealous in that situation.”

The lights in his eyes went out and the void stared down at the coffee table for a long moment before he quietly spoke again.

“i just thought…i know how we met was a little strange; telling jokes through a stone door isn’t exactly sweeping anyone off their feet, but i…” Sans shoved his hands into his pockets, but not before you saw them fold into tight fists, “we had _something_ , doc; we were happy, I thought we were-“

A sigh left him and he sagged into the couch.

So you tried to finish the sentence for him, “You both had gotten close, but you felt you couldn’t compare to her ex?”

“obviously i couldn’t,” Sans grumbled, his eyes closing.

“Sans, your self-worth isn’t tied to whether or not Toriel wants to date you,” You said quietly.

“i’m still here, right?” Sans said quietly and there was a flash of something across his face that made your stomach fall, but you forced yourself not to react to it.

“You are,” You agreed, “You’re here in this office, talking about how your self-worth should be tied to the fact that you tell the best puns that I or any of my colleagues have ever heard—and that’s certainly a trait for a strong mind and high intelligence. Your self-worth should be tied to how deep of a love you have for Papyrus and how well he turned out as a person. Your self-worth should be on many other things, but certainly not the fact that Toriel chose to return to a previous relationship.”

Sans blinked slowly as you spoke, stared into your eyes as you leaned forward, noticed the slight flush that rose in your cheeks and the earnestness in your voice. The silence stretched out and you swallowed, feeling a flush start to burn your cheeks.

“Ah, well,” You laughed lightly.

“so, you’d say I’m a _punny_ guy, huh?” Sans’s grin widened, and he leaned back into his seat, looking pleased with himself, “i’m glad you find them _pun_ derful, i was worried they would start to get _pun_ der your skin.”

You tried to hide your smile for the first pun, snorted for the second, and a torrent of giggles left your mouth for the third. He smiled proudly, one eye closing lazily, but the other watched you carefully.

When your session ended that day, you sat at your desk for a long while, staring down at the folder full of his information without taking in any of it. Were you…starting to have a _crush_ on Sans? On a patient?

No, you’d never allow yourself to be that unprofessional! No matter who had walked through your door, no matter their personality or their looks, you had never let yourself fall in love with any of them. It had never even crossed your mind before now, but for Sans…

Just a few weeks and you found yourself becoming emotionally attached to his wellbeing and to the way he always tried to make you laugh. Sure, you knew it was a defense mechanism, and you could tell yourself every way from Sunday why you shouldn’t be letting yourself even _entertain_ this idea, but…

The way he looked at you, when you spoke so earnestly and defended him against his own dark thoughts…

You really had to be careful.

~*~

Luckily, it was easy to ignore those kinds of thoughts; Sans didn’t look at you like that again for the next few weeks and you thought you could compartmentalize those feelings and shut them away during your sessions with Sans.

Then, something happened that was altogether unexpected.

Grocery shopping had never been a fun experience for you; not that you hated it, per say, but the idea of putting together a list of needed items, walking through the aisles of a store for what felt like hours, and then watching the bill slowly pile up on the register as you questions your own eating and living habits just never seemed a great way to spend _any_ day of the week, let alone today.

Today was the first day without rain for the last 15 days straight and you were eager to be out in the sun, warming your skin and reading a book on your back porch, not walking through the aisles of your local supermarket looking for your usual brand of deodorant.

That’s when it happened.

“HUMAN!”

You blinked, about to look around for the monster who was loud enough to shake the shelves in front of you. Just who would answer to the term ‘huma-

Then you felt arms wrap tightly around you from behind, locking your arms to your side. You opened your mouth to protest, but then your feet left the ground and whoever had picked you up started to spin with you while talking loudly in your ear.

“HUMAN! IT IS SO GOOD TO FINALLY MEET YOU,” The voice was jovial and made you lean away, even as you tried not to get dizzy, “MY BROTHER HAS SPOKEN OF YOU MANY TIMES AND HE SEEMS SO MUCH HAPPIER, SO THANK YOU!”

“Wh-who’s your brother?” You tried to ask loud enough for him to hear.

“h-hey bro! i don’t think she appreciates that, she’s turning green, paps,” A new, familiar voice said, and it was then that the spinning stopped and you were put back on your feet.

“W-waoh!” You had to grab a nearby shelf to keep yourself from falling over, but you had to give your eyes a moment before you could clearly see who was now standing in front of you.

“Sans?” You asked quietly before your eyes traveled up—and _up_ \--to see who must only be Sans’s brother, Papyrus. Who else could he be? It was another skeleton monster, and from all the time you had spent with Sans, who only ever seemed to want to talk about his brother, this had to be Papyrus.

“heyya, doc,” Sans chuckled, “sorry ‘bout that; paps gets pretty excitable.”

“I SIMPLY WANTED TO MEET YOUR DOCTOR, SANS,” Papyrus crossed his arms, “IT IS ONLY PROPER THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM IN THE SAME CIRCLES THAT YOU TRAVEL!”

“don’t worry, i woulda gotten a _round_ to introducin’ the two of you,” Sans’s eyes watched Papyrus’s expectantly.

“BUT YOU WOULD HAVE TAKEN YOUR SWE-“ Papyrus stopped mid-word, and you could see the gears turning in his head before he exploded, “THAT WAS A PUN, WASN’T IT?? WHY MUST YOU VEX ME SO?”

“ah, sorry, paps,” Sans shrugged, lazily closing one eye, “guess i just couldn’t resist such a perfect _ring_ er of a pun.”

Papyrus stomped his foot, “THERE! YOU DID IT AGAIN! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ARE PUTTING THE HUMAN AND I THROUGH SUCH A CHORE!”

You giggled, hiding you smile behind your hand, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing outright when Papyrus turned to you and added, “DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM, OR HE’LL EN _CIRCLE_ US WITH HIS HORRIBLE HUMOR!”

Sans looked positively on cloud nine when Papyrus made his own pun and you found yourself smiling fondly at the shorter skeleton.

“oh my god, that was wonderful, pap!” You swore you saw stars in Sans eyes as he said this.

“YES, I AM QUITE AMAZING,” Papyrus puffed his chest out, “BUT! MORE IMPORTANTLY! I MUST INSIST THAT THE HUMAN JOIN US FOR DINNER TONIGHT! I SHALL MAKE A SPECIAL FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI THAT WILL CELEBRATE HER WONDERFUL INFLUENCE ON YOU, SANS!”

You blinked before laughing nervously, “Ah, well…its not exactly professional for me to-OOH!”

Before you could finish your protest, Papyrus had lifted you—with one arm, you noticed as a wave of dizziness overcame you—and was already striding toward the exit of the store.

“hey, pap!” Sans started to follow, but you could see the way his grin steadily got wider and wider, “shouldn’t we at least finish shopping first?”

“NONSENSE! THIS IS MUCH MORE IMPORTANT! COME ALONG, HUMAN AND WE SHALL PARTAKE IN FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI, THE THREE OF US TOGETHER!”

Before you could answer, Sans looked up at you and said, “guess you don’t exactly have the _three_ dom to choose if you can sit this one out.”

“DON’T MAKE ME UNINVITE YOU, SANS!” Papyrus grumbled as the three of you left the store, you tucked beneath Papyrus’s arm.

This must be something the employees see often, because not a single one of them batted an eyelash as Papyrus strode past, and even most of the customers laughed knowingly, shaking their heads as they went about their business.

You didn’t get a proper look at their house as Papyrus strode up the front steps only a few minutes later—you figured they must live extremely close to the store—but when Papyrus finally placed you on their couch, you managed to spare a moment to look around.

It was sparsely decorated—both being bachelors, it wasn’t as shocking that interior decorating fell by the wayside; at least one of them seemed to know how to cook—but the rooms you could see were clean, and well maintained. The living room was connected to the dining room and kitchen, and you could see a staircase that lead up to a loft-style upstairs.

There were three doors along the top floor, and you could only guess they were bedrooms and a bathroom.

“sorry about pap, he gets pretty excitable,” Sans’s voice was suddenly next to you as he settled on the other end of the couch.

“No worries,” You smiled, “He’s sweet.”

“yeah,” Sans nodded, “he’s the coolest.”

Before the two of you could continue on that line of discussion, Papyrus himself was standing in the archway that lead to the kitchen.

“HUMAN! I FORGOT TO SAY THIS, BUT PLEASE MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME!” Papyrus had donned an apron that had originally seemed to say ‘Kiss the Cook’ and had been modified—was that permanent marker?—to say ‘ ~~Kiss~~ the Cook _is cool_ ’, “MY BROTHER SHOULD BE GOOD FOR CONVERSATING, UNLESS HE STARTS TO BE LAZY; HE TALKS ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME, SO MAYBE THIS TIME I CAN DEPEND ON HIM TO DO SOMETHING AS EASY AS KEEPING A GUEST COMPANY!”

And with that, Papyrus had turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

You glanced at Sans and had to stifle a giggle when you saw his face was glowing—literally glowing—blue much the same way a human would blush.

“Talk about me often, hmm?” You smirked at him, raising an eyebrow before you teased, “You know its highly unprofessional for a doctor to even think of her patient as anything but a patient.”

Sans blushed a little harder, but chuckled, “ah, c’mon doc…i think you of all people could read it if i was thinkin that way…”

That threw you a little, but you laughed along with him. Was it so strange that you still couldn’t get him out of your head? Was it really so strange that hearing him deny it so easily could hurt that badly?

Damn, you had it bad…

“How have things been since our last session?” You asked casually, keeping the small smile on your face, if only to keep your real emotions from planting themselves on your face.

“eh, its only been a few days, but i was thinkin bout what you said,” Sans shoved his hands into his pockets, “bout how i should have a ‘mantra’ or whatever…”

You perked a little, “Yes?”

“i was thinkin,” Sans shrugged, before glancing at you, “bout ‘All Life is an experiment. The more experiments you make, the better.’”

“Ah, Ralph Waldo Emerson,” You nodded, “That is certainly a good quote to live by; always try new things, experiment with circumstances, and thoughts, and everything in between because life is about what you experience.”

Sans nodded, “what about you, doc?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have a mantra or whatever?” Sans was watching you now.

A smile appeared before you said, “Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right; Henry Ford said that.”

Sans nodded slowly, his gaze slowly tracing the lines of your face before they settled on your lips; but they darted back up almost as soon as they landed there. You tried to pretend you hadn’t noticed—let your eyes wander—but you had seen it, plain as day.

You swallowed, and offered Sans a small smile. There was something about this house that seemed to block out all the worries that you had. You weren’t thinking about the fact that you were his doctor and he your patient. You weren’t even thinking about the fact that despite knowing him from your sessions together, you really only knew what he had wanted you to know.

What you were thinking about as what it would feel like to kiss a skeleton.

“THE FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI IS FINISHED!”

You jumped, realizing that you had started leaning toward Sans and he toward you. A blush overtook your face and you laughed nervously before standing and moving toward the table where Papyrus was already dishing out the meal.

Just what were you about to do?

~*~

Sans missed his next session, and the one after that. Two whole weeks and you had no idea where he was, or what he was doing. You found yourself distracted from work easily, and were prone to staring out the window. When you went to the supermarket, you didn’t catch a glimpse of either Papyrus or Sans and you had to scold yourself for even looking.

You figured it wouldn’t be appropriate to call his home—you only ever did that for patients who were a suicidal risk, and even then, you normally called their care provider to make sure nothing had happened.

It was just before Sans’s next appointment—one you hoped he would keep, but settled with yourself that he would most likely miss—that you started going over your appointments and saw the glaring hole in your day.

Sans wasn’t booked at his usual time. In fact, looking over the next few weeks, he wasn’t booked at all.

You sucked in a breath and pressed your lips together.

That was that. He wasn’t booked again, which means he likely caught some of your signals and got weirded out that his _psychologist_ was interested in him. You’d be lucky if he didn’t report you or say something to Dr. Yamada…

You sank lower into your office chair and rubbed your face. The tightness in your chest wouldn’t go away, but you at least managed to stop yourself from crying. You could almost laugh at yourself for how you were reacting.

One man—even if it was Sans—shouldn’t be able to make you feel this way, and yet here you were. It took only a few weeks of talking with him and you were nearly wrapped around his finger; he could have asked you anything and you would have shared personal information, something you had never even considered.

You leaned down and rested your head on your desk, trying to make the ache in your chest disappear when your office phone started to ring.

A deep breath and a moment to collect yourself, and you answered, “Thank you for calling the Yamada-Johnson practice.”

You paused when you heard your name being spoken by a very familiar voice, but you had to stop yourself from overreacting.

“Speaking,” You answered, quieter than you normally would have.

“well, good to know that the doctor is in,” Sans chuckled on the receiver and you swallowed before laughing quietly. It sounded strained to you, but Sans didn’t seem to pick up on that.

“What can I do for you, Sans?” You finally managed to ask, and you were proud that your voice sounded somewhat normal.

“i called to let you know i don’t think i’ll be needing a psychologist anymore,” he started and you nodded, taking a short breath.

“Yes, I just saw that my schedule opened up,” You said this quietly, “I’m sorry that I won’t be seeing you, Sans.”

It sounded bad, but you hoped he would at least take it the way you _should_ have meant it: as a doctor to her patient.

“’bout that,” You could practically hear Sans’s grin over the phone, “now that I’m not your patient, i kinda wanted to know if you wanted to go hang out at grillby’s with me.”

You froze, your breath drawing in before you answered eagerly.

“Yes! I mean,” You blushed and heard Sans chuckle quietly on his end, “I mean, I would enjoy that greatly, Sans.”

“hope you can be _patient_ until your shift ends today,” Sans said and you giggled.

“I…Yes, I think I can hold myself until after work…”

You both settled to meet there—you had seen Grillby’s before, but had never stepped inside—and by the time you put the phone down, you were quietly squealing to yourself. It was still a gray area, dating a _former_ patient, but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling excited!

You had a date with Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated, and please follow my tumblr: [PurpleUndertaleMom.tumblr.com](http://purpleundertalemom.tumblr.com/) My ask is always open!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated, and please follow my tumblr: [PurpleUndertaleMom.tumblr.com](http://purpleundertalemom.tumblr.com/) My ask is always open!


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